


I Knew a Girl With Copper Veins

by Katlou303



Category: Naruto
Genre: ANBU - Freeform, ANBU Tenten of the future, BAMF Haruno Sakura, BAMF Hyuuga Hinata, BAMF Tenten (Naruto), BAMF Yamanaka Ino, Bears, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Fuuinjutsu, Konoha Village, Kunoichi kicking ass, Land of Iron, M/M, Multi, Prophetic Visions, Samurai, Sealing, Summons, Tenten Needs More Love, Tenten is a queen, Tenten-centric, The girls of Naruto getting stronger, This story was mostly born from my desire to give Tenten the arc she deserves, Time Travel Fix-It, Weapons Mistress Tenten, kind of, kunoichi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-05-18 23:49:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14862645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katlou303/pseuds/Katlou303
Summary: Tenten isn't a girl with a great destiny. She knows that. But when she finds a scroll hidden in her mother's attic and learns the secrets of her painful future, she finds herself on the course to change history in the making.Starting with her first goal, 1) Get stronger, and ending with her last, 2) Save the mysterious Hyuuga she sees die far too young.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My Tenten playlist to get you in the mood: https://open.spotify.com/user/t964t4kj8pz9nlxbl03wiloq2/playlist/6tsESztlBYhh0PN96ue8ZX

It starts when Tenten is asked to clean out the attic.

Her mother has a whole host of scrolls tucked away up there, which she never seemed to touch, but when Tenten runs a finger along the paper, there’s no dust at all. Nevertheless, she starts scrubbing the floor, cheerfully humming a tune that’s been stuck in her head all morning. She heard a woman singing it in the street and now it’s been playing on a loop in her mind.

The attic isn’t just some overstuffed, cramped space that’s been abandoned and forgotten about, like the attics in her friends’ houses. Her mother has made it nice, like the rest of the house. She’s had to push a thick, fancy rug back in order to clean the dark wooden floor, making it shine underfoot. The walls are decorated with paintings and wall-hangings, including her mother’s favourite poem, which she wrote out by hand personally after hearing it read aloud.

In her mother’s neat, flowing writing: _I knew a girl with copper veins, who broke away and took great pains, but lifted up her silt-soaked heart, and bought herself a fresh start,_ hung from the wall on scroll-paper, curling up at the ends.

Tenten keeps humming, absently pushing the rug further up, eyes on the poem before her. Her mother always says she wrote it just before Tenten was born. She still calls her daughter her ‘fresh start.’ She never talks about what came before.

The melody cuts off when her hand touches a warm spot on the floor. She frowns, pushing the rug all the way back to examine the space. One of the wooden planks is pulsing gently with warmth. Tenten is familiar with the sensation. It’s what happens when you imbue a surface with chakra. It lives off that energy, ebbing and flowing like a tide. If it’s particularly strong chakra, it can last decades. This feels… old.

Tenten scrapes her nails gently against the wood, frowning to herself. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say something was invisibly sealed under the floorboards, and then covered by a rug. She could pry up the floorboard and take a look, but whatever it is might be rigged to explode when uncovered, unless you keyed in the right chakra signal. She likes her face the way it is. Unexploded.

She doesn’t like to think of herself as nosy. Curious is a nicer word for it. Plus, she’s set to graduate from the Academy soon. They encourage intellectual exercises, and there’s nothing better for that then a puzzle to solve. This certainly counts.

If she was like Tsunade, her hero, she could rip up the entire floor and take whatever damage it could throw at her, then spontaneously heal it all at once. _If_ she was like Tsunade. She’s long since given up the hope of being just like her. She doesn’t have the precise chakra control needed. She’s a battleaxe, not a senbon.

She knocks on the wood, thinking. A senbon might try to figure out the best ways to get through the seal and find out what it was hiding. A battleaxe? A battleaxe would find the quickest and easiest solution, cutting through all of the secrecy.

“Okaa-san!” She calls.

Her mother shouts back something indistinct, muffled by the distance between them, but Tenten hears tell-tale creaks that say she’s on her way. She rocks back on her heels, making room for the two of them.

Her mother climbs up the ladder, her head poking into view.

Kanon is beautiful. She’s got hair like burnished gold, always twisted up in some complicated bun or braid, sometimes piled atop her head as a crown. Her skin is paler than Tenten’s by a few shades, her eyes a brown so dark it could almost be black. A scar bisects one eye, leaving the iris milky white. Rough gouges mar her white cheek. She’s never been completely whole, missing chunks of flesh and her sense of trust, but to Tenten, she’s everything a mother should be.

“Something wrong? You don’t have to be so thorough,” Her mother says, eyes falling on the exposed floorboards, “just a light dusting is enough.”

“What’s under here, Okaa-san?” Tenten asks bluntly. She dislikes prevaricating or dancing around a subject. Her mother saw what she was doing, she was smart enough to have guessed why Tenten summoned her to the attic.

Her mother bows her head, squeezing her eyes shut. She clenches her fists and takes a deep breath, slowly unfurling her fingers.

“I wish you hadn’t found that,” She says grimly, “it’s a relic of the past. Useless. An old scrying scroll that never worked.”

“Then… can I see it?” Tenten asks, unusually hesitant. It’s not like her mother to show her emotions so clearly. If this ‘relic’ truly is useless, why would it upset her mother so much to be reminded of it?

Her mother says nothing for a long moment, then steps forward, hand-seals flashing. The floorboard lights up in answer, a complex seal glowing for a second, then fading all at once.

The board creaks up, revealing a hollowed-out space within.

A scroll is tucked inside, yellowed with age but curiously unspoiled by the dust and cobwebs it has been lying in for some time.

Tenten reaches for it, then stops, looking back at her mother for permission.

Her mother covers her mouth, but nods, brow furrowed.

Tenten takes the scroll out, smoothing it down automatically. She can’t feel anything. There’s no glow of chakra or seals suddenly forming. Just a blank scroll.

She hears the faintest of sighs and glances over at her mother. She’s staring at the scroll, a touch of relief in her expression. What had she expected to happen?

Tenten goes to hand the scroll back, but her mother quickly steps away, hands raised.

“No, no. Just put it back where you found it. Like I said, it’s a useless relic. I only keep it out of sentiment.”

Tenten doesn’t say what she’s thinking, that she didn’t know her mother was physically capable of sentiment, or that if it’s so very useless, why would she keep it hidden under the floorboards and sealed away?

“Okay. I was just curious.” Tenten says, a little sheepish.

Her mother gives her a slight smile, quirking her brows up in amusement, “I know, honey. After you’ve dusted, could you help me sharpen my sickles? You’ve got a knack for it.”

“Of course, Okaa-san.” Tenten says, slowly placing the scroll back into the hollow as her mother descends down the ladder. She waits a few beats, then pulls the scroll back up, examining it closely.

 _Curiosity is a healthy trait in a growing girl,_ she thinks, rotating the scroll to get a good look at every inch, _and I’m as healthy as it gets._

Perhaps a senbon would have been more cautious, doing some research in the library, trying to get more information out of her mother, or performing some routine tests to make sure it was safe.

But Tenten’s no senbon.

She channels her chakra, a white-edge of energy, and pushes it into the thin, curled-up paper.

She feels the reaction instantaneously, the ripple of chakra billowing through the scroll, something within lighting up at her touch.

The scroll jumps out of her hand, unfurling on the wooden floor.

She stares in shock, then reaches out, just barely touching the edge of the paper with her fingertips, and –

_A beautiful man, milky-white eyes glazed in death, a bloody smile painted on his lips. His chin is resting on the shoulder of another man, whose blond, spiky hair quivers, his arms coming around to embrace the corpse leaning heavily against him. Tenten watches, faintly aware that her world is falling apart, that her life may as well have spilled out along with his blood. She reaches forward, brushing his hair away from the fading seal on his forehead, and lays a first and last kiss on his still-warm skin._

Tenten inhales sharply, drawing away from the scroll.

“What was _that_?” She mutters aloud, nudging the paper away with her foot. She blinks, and a tear falls from her cheek. She makes a face. She hasn’t cried in forever. She doesn’t believe in it. Or at least, her mother doesn’t.

 ** _The future_** _,_ words spill across the page as if written by an invisible hand.

Tenten grabs hold of the cloth she’d been using to scrub the floor, and wrings it, needing something solid in her hands. The feel of the rough fabric helps ground her in the moment. She’s here in her attic. Her mother is downstairs, waiting for her to help with the latest batch of rusty, second-hand weapons she’s bought for cheap down at the market. She _saw_ something odd, beyond the realms of her imagination. No doubt about that. And now, the scroll seems to responding to her questions, as if capable of independent thought.

 _Curious_ , she thinks, just about managing to keep her composure.

“Can I save the man I saw?” She asks quietly, feeling a little ridiculous, hoping for a response from a blank scroll.

Achingly slow, the words **_yes, you can_** emerge onto the page.

“How?”

**_Get stronger._ **

Tenten huffs. That’s a solution for any problem. She hopes this isn’t some half-baked fortune-telling scroll, designed to parrot phrases at the user.

“And _how_ do I get stronger?” She asks, trying to keep the irritation from her voice.

The words **_get stronger_** have barely wiped themselves away before a sketch takes their place. The scroll shows a drawing of _another_ scroll, this one tied up with red string, stamped with the kanji for _contract_.

Tenten looks around the attic, eyes scanning the many shelves of scrolls, and deflates ever so slightly. _Joy of joys,_ she thinks, then shrugs, rolling up her sleeves. It’ll take a while to find whatever the scrying scroll is pointing her to. She better get to it.

It takes twenty minutes of solid busywork, but she finally finds a scroll identical to the one she saw in the drawing, clutching it triumphantly and holding it aloft like a sword. She giggles, feeling like an idiot, then returns to the scrying scroll.

“And?” She says, raising her eyebrows and waving the captured paper.

The scrying scroll remains blank.

Tenten turns her attention to the scroll in her hand. She was lucky enough that the first didn’t blow her head off, but the chances of both being safe to open seemed slim.

She didn’t waste time thinking about it. She knew what she was going to do from the moment she recognised the sketch. She wanted answers, and she wasn’t going to get them by being cautious.

The string comes undone far too easily, almost falling apart in her hand as she tugs it loose. The scroll unfurls over her lap, tiny, cramped handwriting covering it from top to bottom. She brings it close to her eyes, then gasps in recognition.

A _summoning_ scroll!

Her eyes fall to the bottom of the page, irresistibly drawn to the blank space. _No signature,_ she muses, _no summoner._

She reads the whole thing three times, heart pounding. It’s a contract with the Kuma clan. _Bears_. She presses the scroll against her chest, deep in thought. _Get stronger._ Gaining a summoning contract would be a pretty quick way of doing that, but how was she supposed to explain where she got it from? Well, her family was fairly enigmatic. It was just her and her mother. They didn’t have a family name, they were just Tenten and Kanon. She guessed no one would find it hard to believe that there was a summoning contract in the family, even if Tenten was the only shinobi out of the two.

Almost-shinobi, at any rate. She was going to graduate soon. It’d probably help if she had something unique in her skillset, beyond her self-taught fuuinjutsu and weaponry.

“Tenten! These sickles won’t sharpen themselves! Unless… do you think there’s a seal for that?” Her mother calls up, her voice fading into contemplation towards the end of the sentence.

Tenten makes her decision.

She slips both scrolls under her shirt, hiding the bulge behind her back, and smuggles them down to her bedroom.

xxxxxxxx

The next day, she thinks about the dead man.

He was clearly a Hyuuga, what with his pale eyes and long, dark hair. What was that seal on his forehead?

He was so handsome, even in death, and the smile on his lips made it seem as though he was content with his fate. Even so, he was far too young to accept his end. She can save him, if only she gets stronger.

It’s Sunday, so there’s no Academy to attend. She makes some vague noises about training when her mother asks what she’ll be doing today, then gobbles up her breakfast and hurries out the door. They live in the nicer half of the civilian district, the side with fields and big houses, clean streets and enormous oak trees.

Tenten hops a fence, still absently chewing her last mouthful of toast, and ducks into the forest nearest her house. It’s not as big as the Nara Forest, but she didn’t feel like trespassing today. It’s hot, the azure sky overhead clear of clouds, save for a few wisps here and there. The wind feels closer to a warm sigh than a breeze, unable to shift the bangs that lay limply against her forehead.

“Oi!” A deep female voice booms.

Tenten freezes, all lessons on stealth and subtlety from the Academy fleeing her mind at once.

She turns slowly, toast hanging out of her mouth.

A purple-haired woman is grinning at her. Her shirt is nothing but _mesh_ , showing off her assets. Tenten blushes, politely averting her eyes. Another woman stands beside her, beautiful even with the resigned look on her face.

“Where d’ya think you’re going, brat?” The first woman shouts, the grin on her face belying the iron in her voice.

Tenten lifts the scrying scroll pointedly. It’s blank if they decide to check it, and there’s no way they haven’t noticed it already.

“I’m going to train in the woods,” She calls back, managing to sound calm despite the nerves raging in her gut, “whenever I use the training fields, some nin tells me to clear out because they need it. Until I graduate, I can’t book a space for the day to use, and I need to practice before the last test at the Academy.”

The woman’s grin fades, but it’s replaced by a thoughtful look, “Good for you, kid. Getting ahead of the game, huh?”

Tenten feels her cheeks redden. That’s pretty much what she’s doing here today, just not in any way she’d admit. She’ll throw out the secret of the summoning scroll to distract from the scrying, if needs be. There’s no penalty for having a family advantage. If there was, all the clan kids would be doomed.

“I know you,” The other woman says, realisation filling her voice, “You’re the Academy Student with all the weapons, correct? You’re set to become your generation’s foremost expert on shinobi tools, if your teacher isn’t just bragging.”

Tenten’s blush darkens violently, “O-oh, I’m okay, I guess…”

The purple-haired woman spits a toothpick into a nearby tree, the tiny stick sinking in like a knife. “Don’t downplay what you’ve got. If you’re good, you’re good. Are you?”

Tenten blinks, grip loosening on the scroll. This feels like a test. The women’s eyes are firm on her face.

“I’m good.” She says finally, nodding to herself. She _is_ good, and she’s only going to get better. She’s got herself a pretty-boy Hyuuga to save, after all.

The woman grins, a gleeful glint in her eyes, “Damn straight. You’re looking at two of the best kunoichi in the village. What’re the odds you’re gonna be right there with us in a couple of years?”

“Anko…” The beautiful woman chides, rolling her red eyes, “don’t lump me in with your boasting.”

“It’s not boasting if it’s true!” Anko retorts, hands on her ample hips.

“One year.” Tenten says, mouth dry.

Anko turns back to raise an eyebrow at her, “Huh?”

 _There’s nothing feminine about her at all,_ Tenten thinks, _and she’s still beautiful. Even when she makes stupid faces. Something to aim for._

“I’ll be as good as you in one year.” Tenten says resolutely, clenching her free hand into a fist.

Anko laughs raucously, “Oho, I _like_ this one! Maybe you’ll survive that long… maybe not. Either way, you’re not gonna come close to _me_.”

Tenten glares up at her, hardening her voice as much as possible, “I’ll make sure to pat you on the back when I surpass you, just to let you know.”

For a moment Anko stares at her, pale whiskey eyes a little wide, then a grin splits her face and she _cackles_ , her entire body wracked with mirth.

Her red-eyed friend gives Tenten an apologetic smile.

Anko pretends to wipe away a tear, then smirks down at Tenten, “What’s your name, brat?”

Tenten’s chin juts out, “I’m Tenten.”

“Family name?”

Tenten grits her teeth, “ _Just_ Tenten.”

Anko looks over her consideringly, eyes lingering on the scrolls in her hands. “Okay, _just_ Tenten. I’ll catch you at the finish line. Can you make it?”

Tenten points right at the older woman, her face set in determination, “Of course! I’ll even help you along, if you like!”

Anko splutters, throwing her head back to laugh again. Her laughter was so violent, tearing through her as if it her body was unused to the motions.

“What’ll you give me when you lose?” Anko asks with a shit-eating grin.

Tenten freezes, wondering what a scary, older shinobi might demand. But then – she didn’t demand anything, did she? Maybe…

“All you’re getting is a pat on the back.” Tenten shoots, half-tempted to stick her tongue out at her.

Anko reaches forward, gripping Tenten by the shoulder and drawing their faces close together, “Nahhh…. That doesn’t work for me, punk.” She rasps. Tenten almost feels proud. In the space of a short conversation, she has graduated from _brat_ to _punk_. “When _I_ win, you’re gonna do a little job for me. Nothing too tricky, just a little something.”

“Sounds like you already need my help.” Tenten risks a quick grin, her heart rabbiting away. She’s running on pure adrenaline.

Anko pats her face, almost affectionate, “We’ll see.”

“What will you give her if she wins?” The other woman asks, mirth colouring her voice.

Anko scoffs, “She won’t! But… fine. I’ll give you my coat, since I guess the shirt off my back might be a little… ehehehe.”

“ _Anko_.” The other woman says, her voice sharp.

“ _Kurenai_ ,” Anko mocks, rolling her eyes, “lighten up. She started it. So, handshake? Seal the deal?”

“So, when _I_ win, all I’ll get is a second-hand coat,” Tenten says, unimpressed, “but if you won, I’d have to do a job for you? That seems a little uneven.”

“Welcome to the life of a shinobi, punk,” Anko seizes her hand and shakes it violently, “it’s full of little injustices. Get used to it now and you can roll with the punches later, yeah?”

Tenten tries not to flinch, her hand trapped in Anko’s, “Um… yeah. Deal.”

Kurenai nudges Anko, “C’mon, time to go. Sorry about this, Tenten-san. She’s not quite housebroken just yet.”

Anko whirls on her friend, mouth open in outrage, and Tenten leaps on the chance to escape, darting into the trees.

“Catch you later, punk!” Anko calls. It sounds like a promise. Or a threat.

Tenten laughs to herself, high and incredulous. She touches her chest, feeling her heartbeat slow down to a normal rate.

“Not if I catch you first.” She whispers, then rushes deeper into the woodlands, dappled sunlight giving her a broken path made of glowing green grass.

xxxxxxxx

Once she’s reasonably sure she’s far enough from the residential area and hasn’t been followed, she ducks under a large tree, spreading her summoning scroll across the shaded ground.

She bites down on her thumb, just about managing to pierce the calloused skin, and draws enough blood to coat her fingers with.

With only a few seconds of hesitation, she takes the plunge and signs her name. _Tenten._ She wonders how many times someone outside of a clan gets the chance to have their very own summons.

She doesn’t have long to ponder it, because smoke erupts from the scroll and she flings herself backwards instinctively, knocking her head against the tree trunk behind her.

She looks up, nerves rattling her. The scroll had said…

A small form appears, ears twitching.

A…

A red panda?

Tenten stares.

“Hiya,” The red panda squeaks, “I’m Fang. Nice to meet you, summoner-sama!”

“B-but… the contract said _bears_ …” Tenten says, dazed.

“Red pandas are part of the Kuma clan!” Fang says haughtily, “don’t lump us in with the likes of _raccoons._ We’re a noble species! Everyone agrees that we’re just as good as bears! And you didn’t think you’d get one of them first time, right? I always greet the summoner. I’m a messenger. And a healer! And I also write the occasional poem. You’re so lucky to be contracted with us!”

“But… _bears_.” Tenten says mournfully.

“Once you get bigger, you’ll be able to summon some of our… flashier members. You’re just a cub right now. You’ve hardly got any fur at all. I’ve got a tonic for that, you know. But you’re too young to need the bigger summons. Save that for when you’re nice and tall, okay?” Fang says, dashing up to Tenten’s lap. He looks up at her face, his big brown eyes staring unblinkingly into hers.

He chitters happily, “Oh, we’ve got such a good one! Bright eyes, tanned skin, glossy fur – even if there’s not _nearly_ enough – and all your limbs look intact. We’re so lucky! Tenten-sama, welcome to the clan!”

He sticks out a little paw, nose twitching expectantly.

Tenten, as if in a dream, feels her hand slowly drift forward, and for the second time today, seal a deal with a handshake.

What has she gotten herself into?

***

Hello, friends!

I hope you’re all hungry for a Tenten-centric fic. I know I am! That poor girl doesn’t get nearly enough spotlight.

So red pandas have been assigned to multiple animal families, including bears, so… here they are. Part of a bear clan :D They’re one of my absolute favourite animals, and I thoroughly recommend looking up red pandas online and watching videos of them. They’re just… _precious_.

This fic would not exist without elladora, who suggested I write a fic about Tenten, and Momma, who provided me with an extensive backstory on Tenten’s mother and multiple amazing suggestions. And finally… Authorship, who’s become my very first beta in over ten years of fic writing. Thanks, you guys! I hope you’re not the only ones who read this! :P

Anko and Kurenai don’t always accost Academy Students while they’re on a secret, illicit training spree, but when they do, Anko makes sure to extort something from them.

Now _who_ could the pretty-boy Hyuuga in Tenten’s vision be? Hmm… let me think…

I really hope you guys like this fic, because the plotbunny bit *hard* and thanks to my discord chat, I have a ton of ideas to work through.

 **Quick poll for fun:** What was the most awesome moment of Naruto?

For me, nothing tops Lee dropping his weights during his fight with Gaara. Though Sakura cutting her hair off and defending her team comes close… hmm… The Chuunin Exam arc was just full of awesome, huh?


	2. Chapter 2

“Who was your last summoner?” Tenten asks.

Fang thinks about it, “Hmm… it’s been a long while. Maybe… no, he died years before that. Then perhaps it was – no.”

“You don’t remember?” Tenten asks, scrunching her nose up. It kind of seems like the sort of thing a summon would recall.

Fang waves his paw in a _so-so_ gesture, curiously human-like, “My memory’s pretty fuzzy. Just like the rest of me. If you want someone with brains, you need Bai. Or Li. Just wait ‘til you meet all of us, we’re a very loyal bunch. We’ll protect you until your dying day, Tenten-chan!”

“Um… thanks,” Tenten says, coughing to hide her nervous laughter, “I’ll protect you too, Fang-kun.”

Fang chirps happily, running around in a circle. His tail is so… fluffy… Tenten has to sit on her hands to stop herself from reaching out to touch it.

“So, when will you start having cubs of your own?” Fang asks, eyes bright with curiosity.

Tenten splutters, shaking her head wildly, “N-no! I mean, not any time soon… I’m focusing on my studies. They’ll be plenty of time for… _cubs_ later.”

“Smart, smart,” Fang nods sagely, “but, just so you know, I’m very good with cubs. I’d make a great babysitter.”

“I’m sure you would. So, if you had a summoner before, why was this blank?” Tenten asks, pointing at the scroll. She has a sneaking suspicion she’d like confirmed.

Fang hides his face behind his tail and mumbles, “If we lose our summoner… then their name will fade. Over time, it’ll become blank again. When we’re ready for a new name.”

“How long has it been blank?” Tenten asks, brow drawn in concern.

Fang shuffles, “Too long, Tenten-chan. We’ve been waiting for you, I guess!” He perks up, his ears twitching, “for you to get big enough to become one of the Kuma clan!”

Tenten smiles, then gives into her urge to pat him on the head, “Well then, it’s nice to meet you meet you at last, Fang-kun. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Fang reaches up slowly, touching her hand with his paws. He chirps again, tail swishing.

“I found your scroll with a bunch of others in my attic,” Tenten tells him, “they all belong to my mother. She’s a collector.”

“Is she a shinobi?”

“No, she’s a smith. She makes weapons. She’s in very high demand. I’m not sure why she has so many scrolls, actually, since she can’t use any. She doesn’t sell them, either. She just keeps them up in the attic. I found a strange scroll in there. It pointed me towards your summoning scroll.” Tenten says, lowering her voice.

Fang twitches his nose, “Pointed you? How?”

Tenten pulls the scroll out of her belt and spreads it across the grass. Fang darts over, his big brown eyes fixed on the blank paper.

“This is odd,” He says, head tilting, “look at you! Weird little thing. It’s got chakra in it that’s not yours, though I can feel that, too. Bits and pieces. But there’s a big bit of energy that’s old, very old, sitting in the centre. Hmm…”

He taps his paw in the middle of the scroll, blue sparks dancing across his claws.

The scroll stays blank.

“Weird!” Fang declares.

Tenten reaches out, grazing her hand across the spot Fang had touched, and sends chakra through her fingertips.

Instantly –

_She’s sat in a room filled with ANBU, painted, blank faces staring back at her. Her own mask fits tightly over her face, covering eyes still red from her insomnia. She’d been dreaming of him again, and when she woke up in the early pink hours of dawn, her tears chased all chance of sleep away. Neko flashes discreet hand-signals from across the room._

_‘Are you okay?’_

_She doesn’t know anymore._

Tenten gasps. Knowledge has been crammed into her head, full to bursting. She knows the sign language Konoha ANBU use, and how it differs from the general version they use outside the village. She knows the codes from past, present and future, and how they were written and broken. She knows that to focus on a target’s extremities during torture, their limbs and digits, before moving on to the larger areas.

She knows torture is rarely effective on its own, and that the target will typically either scream anything to make the pain cease, or clam up and refuse to say anything at all. She knows a combination of violent action and soft dialogue can be used to break someone. She remembers trading places with Neko after a hard session, leaving her target weeping blood, and Neko talking sweetly to them as if they were a dear friend. She remembers how often that tactic worked.

Fang is sitting on her head, his tail curled around her neck.

He swings upside down, making eye contact with her, “Awake? Good! You were in some kind of trance. I nibbled your fingers, but you didn’t react.”

Tenten doesn’t feel any pain. He must have been too gentle with her. Her mind still feels overburdened, pain lancing her temples.

“Hold on a tick!” He says, holding a leaf up to her mouth. “Open up, please. This will help the pain.”

Tenten allows him to pour the liquid into her mouth, blinking in surprise at the sweetness of the tonic. Her head lightens, the pain easing, and her thoughts become less muddled.

 Her breath catches, “Did anyone come by?”

“Nope! I can feel chakra within a small radius, and nobody came close. There’s some birds in that tree, though. I’m keeping an eye on them.”

“I saw… I think I saw the future.” Tenten says, dazed. She was _ANBU_.

Fang leaps off her head, landing neatly on the other side of the scroll.

“Hmm, time-space ninjutsu mixed with fuuinjutsu, or is it simply genjutsu? Or maybe it’s a toy, meant to show you your daydreams? Whatever it is, it can’t be totally effective, otherwise there would be many copies in the world, like summoning contracts. Once something extraordinary is discovered and understood, it becomes ordinary.”

“I saw someone I love die.” Tenten says, her voice coming out flat and dull. She can still feel the ache in her chest from the vision, and it’s making her cross. She doesn’t have the time or energy to waste on feelings that aren’t even hers.

“Daydreams aren’t always nice,” Fang says, a touch of melancholy in his high-pitched voice, “touch the scroll again, so we can be sure. If you see something that surprises you, it might be the real deal. Though it’s probably a fake. Or a trick! If it attacks you, I will leap in the way! But keep in mind that I’m not a fighter. I’m very good at giving hugs and writing poetry, but I can’t fight anything bigger than a housecat, and maybe not even that.”

“Well, can I hear a poem before I try this again?” Tenten asks, needing the time to calm down a little. She didn’t just receive a memory that time.

It feels as if endless knowledge has been crammed inside her head, ANBU tactics, shinobi hand-signs, code, methods of torture and how to withstand them all…

Fang chitters, clapping his front paws together, “Really? Okay, here it goes! Silver eyes flash warning signs, a gaze too costly to meet. She pays endless fines, for a heart not built to heat. But she’s flesh and blood all the same, her shiny metal heart too cold. It can only manage loss and shame, spite-torn tin painted gold. It’s dented and rusted, her poor little heart, broken and busted, so she pushes restart.”

Tenten blinks owlishly. “O-oh. Wow. It’s very… dark.”

Fang wriggles happily, “Thank you! Xia-sama says I’m the best at poetry.”

“Xia-sama?”

“The Queen of Bears.” Fang explains, tail swishing behind him.

Tenten blows out a short breath, pushing her sweat-soaked bangs away from her face. _The Queen of Bears._ Of course. At this rate, she’d be unsurprised if a whole troop of bears showed up, juggling kunai.

 _Where_ did her mother get the scrolls? The summoning scroll alone had to be valuable, especially as there was no summoner attached. If the scrying scroll works like she thinks it does, it must be _invaluable._

Tenten shakes her head, then firmly presses her hand down on the scroll, not allowing herself time to doubt.

The chakra has barely left her fingertips before she is besieged with images.

Hokage-sama _, she thinks, looking at a boy a year younger than her in robes of flames, his smile as bright as the sun._ I’ll follow this boy to the end of the world, _she muses,_ because I know he can save it.

Tenten comes back to herself, eyes adjusting to the dim light of the shaded undergrowth after gazing at the brilliance of the boy Hokage for too long.

She recognised him in two difference ways.

First, he was almost certainly the blond who had been holding Tenten’s loved one as they died. Even while wreathed in ethereal flame, his yellow-spiked head was unmistakable.

Second, he looked a great deal like the loud-mouthed prankster she saw getting chased through the streets, laughing his head off as he went.

 _That_ was the future Hokage?

Well. Either the scroll had an absurd sense of humour, or what she had seen was true. There was no way her mind could come up some troublemaker kid ending up as Hokage, which meant this was no illusion, reflecting her own desires or thoughts. The specificity of each vision was too great for it to be some vague quirk of a bog-standard fortune scroll.

“What did you see?” Fang asks.

“The future,” Tenten replies, certainty hardening her voice, “and that means I have work to do.”

xxxxxxxx

Before she’s due to graduate, Tenten’s mother insists on going to their favourite restaurant to celebrate, even though Tenten doesn’t even know if she’ll pass yet.

Kanon says warmly, “I already know you’ll pass. But even if you didn’t somehow, you’d still deserve a treat for working so hard.”

Anko walks into the restaurant just as Tenten is enjoying her second plate of sesame dumplings. Her eyes go wide, and her dumpling slips out of her chopsticks’ grasp. Her mother stabs it in mid-air with her own chopstick, raising her golden eyebrows at her inattention.

Anko strolls further in, arms stretched above her head as she yawns. Even with her carefree posture, she seems to expand, filling the space with her presence.

Tenten shrinks in her seat as Anko’s eyes fall on her booth, a smirk immediately spreading across her face.

“Punk!” Anko says delightedly, loud voice resonating through the restaurant.

Tenten slides a little closer to her mother.

“Fancy seeing you here – ” She begins, crossing the room to get to their table, then cuts off abruptly.

Tenten follows her gazes and sees her mother’s face, the scarred side clearly visible. Tenten stiffens. She’s heard all sorts from well-meaning strangers, things about how pretty her mother is _despite_ her ‘problem,’ how she could get them healed if she was willing to pay a small fee, what a shame it was to see a former beauty so disfigured…

She hasn’t heard it all, because she knows her mother must have heard more throughout her life. Nastier things whispered in her presence. Neighbours speculating on what kind of rough woman she must be, to bear such marks without shame.

One of the reasons she had wanted to become a shinobi when she was little was because she’d seen countless kunoichi and shinobi glance at her mother without much interest, not caring about the three gouges running down her cheek, or the long slice that cuts through her left eye, leaving it milky white and blind. When shinobi looked at her mother, they saw _her_.

Or at least, they had until Anko. The woman’s gaze flickers across Kanon’s cheek and eye, her expression fascinated.

Kanon’s mouth tightens, and she slowly and deliberately turns her face to show off the full extent of her scars, the raw lines painted down her throat.

“Have you had your eyeful yet?” She asks tartly. “Or do you need more time to stare?”

Anko blinks, then an eerie grin flashes across her face.

“ _Spar with me._ ” She breathes.

Kanon frowns, her scarlet-painted mouth forming a moue of confusion. She taps her gold, gilded nailguards, shaped like claws. “You mistake me for a shinobi. I do not spar.”

“Anyone can spar!” Anko insists. Tenten is beginning to feel rather forgotten. “And if you win, I’ll show you some of _my_ scars. If I win, well…”

“I have no interest in you or your scars,” Kanon says crisply, “but mine are not pieces to barter. If you would sell yourself so cheaply, well, you must do as you see fit.”

If anything, such a blunt rejection only increases the manic glee in Anko’s grin, “You got a name?”

“Most people do.” Kanon busies herself with cleaning the edge of her plate with a napkin, patently uninterested in the conversation.

One of the issues in their lack of a family name was that it tended to force casual intimacy with strangers. Tenten has introduced herself by her first name only many times, receiving bewildered looks.

No doubt, Kanon doesn’t want to give her first name to Anko, in case she takes it as a sign of interest.

“She’s mostly known as the Lady of Iron.” Tenten interjects, leaning into view.

Anko’s eyes practically sparkle, a highly disturbing sight.

“The smith, right? You made my favourite kunai. I always touch the carved kanji on it for good luck before a mission.”

“A pity it worked until this point,” Kanon replies, “now, you began this ‘conversation’ by shouting at my daughter. Was there a purpose to that, or is it your customary way to enter a restaurant?”

Anko’s eyes slide back to Tenten, “This is your kid?”

“Clearly.”

“You know she’s the betting kind?”

Kanon rests her head on her hand, eyes hooded in boredom.

Anko slides onto the other side of the booth, resting her dirt-encrusted hands on the table. Kanon flicks them a look of distaste.

“She bet me she could surpass me in a year,” Anko grins, leaning across the table, “ain’t that adorable? Not even graduated yet, already challenging jounin.”

Kanon looks unruffled by the revelation, “How enterprising.”

“You’re not worried for her?”

“I have every faith in my daughter’s abilities.”

“How sweet,” Anko coos, reaching to pat Tenten on the cheek, “aren’t you a lucky punk – ”

Kanon intercepts Anko’s hand, lightning-fast, pinning it against the table with her chopsticks.

“Do not put your hands on my child.” She says, icily calm.

Anko gives her a dazed smile, clearly in awe.

Her eyes glint, and she rips her hand free. She stands up, “You’re gonna spar with me one day, hime-sama. Might even mess up your pretty hair.”

Kanon twirls her chopsticks, eyes back on her plate, already dismissing Anko.

Anko meets Tenten’s gaze, frustration evident on her face.

Tenten only shrugs, unable to hold back her grin. Anko had been scary when she encountered her out in the wild, up to no good, but here she’s just another person who’s unable to overcome the sheer force of Kanon’s indifference.

Anko backpedals out of the restaurant, not seeming to notice she never ordered anything.

Tenten looks at her mother warily, waiting for the explosion that was sure to follow the revelation that she had _challenged_ a jounin.

Instead, Kanon plucked a dumpling from her plate and demurely popped it into her mouth. “You’re trying to fly before you can even crawl, my dear,” is all she says, then they continue their family meal without any further discussion on the subject.

Tenten feels warm. Her mother might appear cold and stern, but she knows her daughter and has plenty of faith in her. She trusts that she knows what she’s doing.

Tenten isn’t quite so sure of herself, but takes comfort in her mother’s belief.

xxxxxxxx

Later that day, Tenten spreads the scrying scroll across her bed.

She touches the new choker around her neck, feeling it warm up beneath her fingers. It unfurls, then spins in the air, turning into Fang. He lands on her bed with a flourish, paws up as if expecting applause.

“It worked!” Tenten says. She’d witnessed him turning into the choker shortly after her last vision, but had feared he’d never turn back and she’d be stuck with a cutesy red panda necklace and no summons.

“Of course it did!” Fang says proudly. “I’m the best at transformation jutsu! I can turn into a hat, too. And a little dagger. But please don’t lose me. I don’t want to end up in somebody’s pocket.”

“I won’t. I’ll take care of you, Fang-kun.” Tenten promises, gripping his round paw in her hand. He shakes it decisively.

“So, you said this thing can answer questions?” He says, looking down at the blank paper before him.

“Yep. It told me I could save the person I saw in my vision, and that to do that, I had to get stronger.”

“Hmm… Weird! Okay, I’ll try asking it something,” Fang leans over, sniffing the paper, “scrying-san, did Bai take my fish, or was it Li?”

The scroll remains blank.

Fang flails on the bed, scrunching his nose up.

“Did Bai take Fang’s fish, or Li?” Tenten asks hastily, sensing a tantrum coming on.

Words appear, written in thick, black ink. _Neither. The fish swam away while Fang slept._

Fang claps his paws over his mouth, “Really? And I put bugs in their beds for weeks after…”

“Why did you think they took it in the first place? Are they greedy?”

“What? No! I wasn’t going to _eat_ the fish. It was my new pet!”

Tenten hides her smile, “Summons can have pets?”

“Well, I certainly tried. Oh, fishy friend, you had scales of pearlescent sheen, a sparkle without end. I loved your eyes, so bright and keen – ”

“Could we get back to testing out the scroll, if you don’t mind?” Tenten asks politely.

Fang chirrups in agreement, miming zipping his mouth shut.

“Where can I get allies?” Tenten asks.

The scroll shimmers, then brushstrokes begin to form a map. A red circle is drawn over a tiny area, and a large number of days is written in the top left-hand corner.

“So, in that many days, I can find allies here?” Tenten asks, pointing at the circle.

 _Yes_. The word floats over the map, then melts into nothingness.

“Are there any allies closer to home?”

_Yes._

“Uh – can you show me them?”

_Sacrifice a small amount of energy._

“A terrifying way to say, ‘use some chakra.’” Tenten grumbles

She touches the edge of the scroll and feeds it some of her quicksilver chakra.

_“You know, we’re not here to hurt you.” Neko says earnestly, in her saccharine voice. The prisoner lets out a wet-sounding laugh, incredulous. “No, really! It’s always a last resort. You think we like doing this? It’s awful. I hate seeing people like this. But we have to do it. We don’t have a choice. All we can do is wait and hope that you’ll see reason, that all this unpleasantness can end…”_

_Neko spends another hour coaxing him into complacency, making him believe she truly cares. Ten minutes after he cracks his first smile, he breaks. He spills everything, and Neko makes him feel_ good _for doing it._

_She leaves the room and pulls her mask off instantly, heaving a big sigh._

_“Ahh! It’s always so hot and stuffy in those rooms,” Ino complains, smoothing down her frizzy ponytail, “You have it easy. All you have to do is knock them about a bit, and then you can leave. I have to spend hours talking nonsense to them just to get some results!”_

_“It’s almost like you chose a career in interrogation, or something.” Tenten replies dryly._

_Ino bodily-checks her into the wall, hissing like her ANBU namesake, “I can’t help being so talented in such a valuable area!”_

_Tenten laughs, even though she dipped the prisoner’s fingernails in acid and he’s in the next room, red-raw and vulnerable, because together, she and Ino peeled back his layers and left him exposed._

_She’s not sure if she’s a terrible person for laughing in such a situation, or if Ino’s just that good a friend._

Tenten comes back to herself slowly. The first thing she’s aware of is a high-pitched voice reciting words with some vague melody.

“ – and I did say to the lady, ‘I’ll take care of you,’ and she did say to me, ‘You’ll – ”

Tenten flaps a hand, squinting through the headache bursting behind her eyes.

Fang perks up, “You’re awake! And in pain again. Oh dear. I’ll get the leaf tonic.”

Tenten now knows the recipe for a particular kind of salt that can literally be used in wounds to spread the pain throughout the body, causing the victim to feel as though their veins are on fire. At that point, incapable of soothing the searing agony ripping through their body, most people would give up what they knew – whether it was useful or not. And if they did, Tenten also knows the salve that counteracts the salt’s effects, leaving the target babbling with gratitude.

Fang pours the tonic into her mouth again. It tastes a little like cold herbal tea.

“Thank you,” Tenten says, scrubbing a hand across her brow, “I saw the ally, by the way. Someone called Ino. She looked my age, but she’s not in my year in the Academy and she definitely is a shinobi, by the time that I know her. So she’s probably a year or two younger.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Well… find my interrogator, I guess,” Tenten says, “if I can get her on board, I’ll hopefully be able to find more info than just what the scroll can give me.”

As horrible as it is to suddenly have years’ worth of knowledge of torture dropped in her mind at once, memories of Ino/Neko’s friendship lighten the load.

xxxxxxxx

It doesn’t take long for Tenten to find Yamanaka Ino. Apparently, Ino is part of some legendary generational team involving three clans. Tenten can’t help but be a little intimidated by that.

She knocks on the door of the Yamanaka residence, admiring the immaculate flowerbeds that bracket the entrance.

Ino answers, a curious look on her too-young face.

Tenten gives her a gentle smile, unsure of just how much younger she is, “Hi, are you Yamanaka Ino?”

“…Yes.” The blonde replies, examining Tenten from head to toe without even trying to mask her interest.

“Can I have a private word with you, please? Maybe in the park?” Tenten asks.

For some reason, a light dusting of pink covers Ino’s cheeks, and she only nods, following Tenten down the path without another word.

She fidgets all the way to the park, looking immensely awkward. She’s a fair few shades off Neko’s confidence.

Tenten stops when they get to an empty patch of the park, beneath a large plum tree. She turns to start her recruitment speech about how much she needs someone like Ino to help her get stronger and muddle through the gift she’s been given, when Ino herself steps forward.

“Thank you very much for your interest, Tenten-san!” Ino blurts out. “But I’m already taken, sorry! I’m going to marry Uchiha Sasuke. I’m very flattered that an older girl would confess to me, but I’m not available. Goodbye!”

And just like that, the younger girl shoots off, her face tomato-red.

Tenten stares after her, dumbfounded.

 _That_ was Neko?

***

Hello, friends!

I am _so_ glad that a lot of you are as hungry for a Tenten-centric fic as me! My goal is to get at least _one_ more written as a result of this one, because I _need_ more Tenten in my life!

Fang can turn into a necklace, a straw hat, and a jewelled dagger. He’s also an amateur poet, and he’ll never let you forget it.

So. Tenten has had a few more visions, some nice, some not-so-nice, and she’s tried to react to them all with the same level of calm and rationality. She’s seen herself as a badass ANBU, Naruto as Hokage, and Ino as an interrogator. It’s going to be difficult for her, seeing how vastly different the future is from the past.

Anko has a _huge_ thing for scars, which frequently makes Ibiki uncomfortable. “I am not a sex object!” He complains. Anko doesn’t care.

But Anko has underestimated the level to which _Kanon_ does not care. She’s apathetic by nature, unless you try to put your hands on her kid right in front of her. Then she’ll grab you with chopsticks and bodyslam you through a wall.

Ino has read one too many romance novels! Older student who’s never spoken to you before, suddenly arrives at your house, gives you a gentlemanly smile, and asks for a private word in a romantic, public location…

Poor Tenten. Rejected without even realising it.

 **Quick poll for fun:** If you could live in a TV show/film, which would you choose?

I would want Kiki’s Delivery Service, because I missed my call as a witch and I love bakeries.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s impossible to observe a Hyuuga from close range without them noticing, so Tenten just stares directly at Neji’s face. She ignores the way his ears slowly turn red as she unashamedly studies his fine features.

Is he _her_ Hyuuga? The dying man looked to be late teens, maybe early twenties. Not much like the scowling twelve-year-old on the other side of the classroom. Neji still has softly-rounded features, his puppy fat not yet smoothed away by time. The dying man had an aristocratic face, all sharp cheekbones and perfectly even bone structure. And there was the seal, the one that faded from his forehead as he died.

Tenten traces the pattern against her desk. It’s possible that Neji is hiding the seal beneath the bandages he always wraps around his forehead, but he covers one of his arms and legs in much the same way. It could simply be a Hyuuga style or tradition. She’s seen a few Hyuuga dressed similarly, after all.

She couldn’t see herself in the vision, and had only seen Naruto – if it _was_ Naruto – from behind. It was impossible to verify their ages to compare with the dying man. Maybe-Naruto was a few inches shorter than him, so it was possible he was younger.

Someone nudges Tenten, a quick, wary poke in the arm.

Kimiko gives her a weak smile, whispering, “Um, are you okay? You’ve been staring at Neji-kun for so long, I thought – ”

Tenten shakes her head, “It’s nothing. Just lost in thought.”

Kimiko accepts the excuse, settling back in her seat to continue listening to the teacher’s speech on diplomacy.

Tenten’s not sure why, but she’s never been popular with girls. She’s heard the word _scary_ being used to describe her in passing, and her weapons demonstrations make most of her classmates wince, not just the girls. Was this why Ino misunderstood her yesterday? She’s so unused to interacting with girls her age, maybe she said something weird that made Ino think she was… Tenten determinedly does _not_ blush at the memory, though shame seeps through her whole body. She’s been so busy focusing on her training and helping her mother at the store, she never had time to hang out with classmates. How were you supposed to make friends? By the time Tenten thought about trying to, it seemed like everyone in class was already paired up and uninterested in any more applications for friendship.

When she first started at the Academy, kids traded their surnames like currency. The ones from fairly well-known families had immediate status, everyone vying to be their friend, but the kids from prominent clans were mostly left alone, admired from afar. Such was the case with Hyuuga Neji, who Tenten had barely heard speak in the entire time they’d attended the same school.

Tenten remembered the other kids’ bafflement at her lack of surname, then the scorn that always followed their realisation that she was literally _nobody_. Worse than her lack of surname was the complete absence of her father. Some kids assumed he’d died in the last war, but others pressed her for answers. Who was her father? Where was he? Was he even alive? If so, why wasn’t he here with her?

She’d always thought friendship was just something that happened to you. No need to work for it or actively seek it out, because one day a like-minded person would gravitate towards you and that was it. You had a friend.

Even with Ino, she’d approached her like she was recruiting for an army, a speech already laid out about her strengths and weaknesses and how Ino might aid her in her quest… It hadn’t even occurred to Tenten to _befriend_ her. She just wanted someone to talk to about the scroll and all the madness that had ensued ever since she found it. Fang was helpful to a certain extent, but he was prone to agreeing with her on everything. She needed a fresh perspective.

The class ends and the students all file out, some chatting together, others rushing out as quickly as possible. Tenten’s in the latter group, though she simply leaps out the window, ignoring the teacher’s angry yell.

She heads for the exit, thinking about all the questions she’s going to ask the scroll.

Hyuuga Neji steps in the way, a thunderous look on his face.

Tenten stops short, touching her Fang choker for reassurance.

“You,” Neji says, clipped, “What were you looking at in class?”

She doesn’t think saying she was lost in thought will cut it with him. He’s already angry, and less likely to believe her. She may as well just get this over with as quickly as possible.

“A pretty boy.” She says brightly, then skips around him as he gapes in disbelief.

“You should focus on your training!” He yells at her back.

Tenten lazily flicks a kunai up in the air, then tosses a few more after it. She catches them one at a time with two fingers, hurling them up one after the other, juggling with a single hand as she walks.

It’s better than any reply.

The younger kids are being let out at the same time as Tenten’s class, and she spots Sasuke’s distinctive haircut in the crowd.

His head is down low, his hands shoved in his pockets, and he is surrounded by giggling girls. His face is hidden by his collar, but Tenten can imagine the sullen look he was sure to be wearing.

His dark eyes drift towards her without recognition, but his brows flick upwards and he jerks his chin ever so slightly, as if indicating something behind her.

Tenten looks back, but only sees Neji, still seething.

She gives him a little shrug. If he’s been paying any attention to her at all over the years, he’ll know she’s not shallow enough to be distracted by his looks. And if he doesn’t know that, then that’s his problem.

There’s a tiny smirk on Sasuke’s face that wasn’t there before. It’s gratifying to have brought a little light to the poor kid’s life. She’s known Sasuke since they were small, but they never actually became friends, mostly because Sasuke didn’t _have_ friends.

He had his brother.

Tenten grimaces, thinking of how _that_ turned out.

The scent of cedarwood and violets floats by as someone steps just behind her. She tenses up at the invasive feeling, whirling around to confront the violator of her personal space.

Neji looms over her, using all his extra two inches to his advantage.

“What is your name?” He demands, hands on hips.

“You seriously don’t know?” Tenten asks, mouth twitching in amusement. “We’ve been in the same class for years.”

“And?” Neji replies. “I only know you because of your one hundred percent rate of accuracy, which is impressive, but hardly worth noting.”

Tenten’s anger simmers just beneath the surface, her smile turning strained, “You’re right. One hundred percent accuracy is barely above average. Which is why out of our entire class, only you and I have the same test scores in target practice, right?”

“It isn’t noteworthy because for you, your accuracy is the result of years of hard work, whereas for me, it is only the natural advantage of a skilled Hyuuga. You had to train constantly for a long time to achieve the same thing I have simply by opening my eyes.” Neji says coldly.

Tenten’s mouth drops open.

Neji brushes past her, apparently satisfied now he’s rendered her insignificant.

Tenten grits her teeth, then opens her palm, a bomb appearing in a puff of smoke. She hurls it his way.

As expected, he catches it without looking.

Tenten smirks.

A quick hand-seal and a muttered word is all it takes to make the smoke bomb erupt, exploding with a foul stench.

Neji turns to stare at her, affront written all over his incredulous, twitching face.

“Stinkbomb,” Tenten says sweetly, “What? You didn’t see that coming? You should try opening your eyes more often. Bye!”

Tenten races off, the crowds of students becoming blurs all around her. The last thing she sees is Sasuke’s smirk as he steps in Neji’s way.

The roar of frustration Neji makes in response is priceless.

xxxxxxxx

Tenten takes a moment to observe Yamanaka Ino.

The eleven-year-old is sitting at the counter, staring into space. If Tenten wasn’t watching quite so closely, she might miss Ino’s focused eyes, the contemplative slant of her mouth. She is twirling the stem of a flower Tenten is unfamiliar with, its petals a dusky rose splattered with gold.

She isn’t just daydreaming out of boredom. She’s thinking hard, chewing over a problem. _Interesting,_ Tenten thinks, leaning against the doorframe. The girl’s focus almost makes up for her inability to notice Tenten’s entrance into the flower shop.

Tenten deliberately leans heavily on her right foot, allowing the floorboard to creak. Ino snaps back into full awareness, a bland, customer-service smile fixing onto her face. It falls when she looks up, a dark flush crossing her cheeks at the sight of Tenten.

“Hello, Ino-chan,” Tenten smiles, walking further into the room, observing how Ino crosses her arms and hunches her shoulders forward at her approach, “I didn’t get a chance to explain myself yesterday. Do you have time now?”

“I have to work.” Ino says shortly, turning her nose up. She refocuses her attention to rearranging a nearby vase, plonking the flowers into the water with a little too much force.

“I’m sorry to bother you. About yesterday… I wasn’t actually trying to confess to you.” Tenten says gently, wincing in anticipation of the younger girl’s reaction.

Ino’s hands stop, flowers falling back into place in the vase. She closes her eyes, looking as if she wants to sink into the floor.

“Of course you weren’t.” Ino says flatly. “I’m just a… _ugh_.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, it’s – ” Tenten says hastily.

Ino holds up a hand, the other pinching the bridge of her nose, “Don’t say it’s fine. It was stupid.” She sighs, then tosses her head. She regains her composure with admirable speed, visibly shrugging off her embarrassment, “But I’m over it. Whatever.”

Tenten feels a deep pang of envy. She’d give anything for that level of self-possession.

Ino pins her with a sharp look. “Are you actually going to buy anything?”

Tenten blinks. There’s nothing in the shop but flowers, vases and baskets, various decorative pieces and ribbons. Not really her thing, except maybe…

She touches her Fang choker, his little painted face warm to the touch.

“Sure,” She smiles easily, “can I get a couple of those ribbons? The strongest you’ve got, please.”

Ino gives her a deeply dubious look.

xxxxxxxx

Later, after Ino hangs a closed sign on the door and they start walking aimlessly through the streets, Ino finally speaks up.

“So, if you weren’t going to… what _did_ you want?” She asks, clearly trying to appear uninterested, but her darting glances gave her away.

“I wanted your help. I’m set to graduate pretty soon and I’ve just got something that might give me an edge in the last test. I need someone to help me with it.” Tenten says breezily, ignoring the ingrained misgivings she has about lying. Her mother’s bluntness has drummed an appreciation for honesty into her, and even the smallest of deceptions weigh on her conscience.

But, she’s going to be a great shinobi, and to do that, she will have to set aside her misgivings.

“ _My_ help?” Ino stops walking, suspicion flickering in her eyes, “What would you need _me_?”

“I need someone clever with a history in interrogation,” Tenten says, lowering her voice just a fraction below conversational, “Someone with a good head on their shoulders. I asked around, and your father was obviously recommended, but I can’t go to him for help, he’s far too – ”

“Important?” Ino supplies, displeasure colouring her voice.

 _Ah,_ Tenten thinks, hiding her smile, _Ino is smart enough to doubt that I need_ her _help, but too proud to accept she was my second choice._

“Busy,” Tenten corrects, “I hoped you might have more time to spare.”

Ino purses her lips, “You know, I don’t exactly have a ‘history in interrogation’ just because my _dad_ does. My specialty is botany. I’m also proficient in poisons.”

“That’s great!” Tenten enthuses. A little too much, judging by Ino’s quirked brow. Tenten hastily backpedals, “I mean, I haven’t actually met a poisons expert yet.”

Ino regards her with a long stare, then rolls her eyes, “You still haven’t. ‘Proficient’ is not perfect. But I’m advanced for my age, naturally. Tell me what you need from me, and I might think about helping – _depending_ on what it is, of course,” she adds severely when Tenten perks up, “I’m not going to interrogate your crush on whether or not he likes you back.”

 _That sounds exactly like something you would do,_ Tenten thinks but doesn’t say. Ino may be small and sweet-looking, but she’s beginning to resemble her future self more and more. Tenten’s not exactly eager to get her face clawed off.

“I don’t have a crush,” Tenten says, ignoring the incredulity on Ino’s face, “And it’s not so much a one-time job I need you to do. I’m recruiting for a team, and you’re first on the list.”

Ino’s brows draw sharply together. She blinks rapidly and scans their surroundings. _Checking for eavesdroppers,_ Tenten thinks, struck by inexplicable pride.

Ino sighs, whirling around, “Let’s go somewhere quieter, then, shall we? _Not_ the park this time.”

Tenten leads her home, hope lifting every step until she’s almost walking on air. She’s nearly got her first recruit in the mission to save her pretty boy.

xxxxxxxx

Ino slips up once again.

Kanon is in the hall when Tenten lets them both in the house, and she greets her daughter with a warm smile that freezes at the sight of Ino.

Tenten is confused until she looks back at the younger girl and sees the pity and disgust mingling on her face.

“Right,” Tenten grits out, “We won’t be long, Okaa-san. Ino, upstairs. Now.”

Ino is startled into easy compliance, all too eager to get away from Kanon’s icy glare.

Tenten pulls her bedroom door shut with a gentle _click_ , wishing she could slam it without disrespecting her mother’s rules, and turns on Ino with a fearsome look.

“Don’t you _ever_ look at my mother like that again.” She says hotly.

Ino swallows, hard. She can’t seem to make eye contact with Tenten, who can’t bring herself to care.

“She’s my mother, not a freakshow for you to stare at – ”

“Well, couldn’t you have warned me?” Ino bursts out.

Tenten counts slowly under her breath, then shoves Ino into the chair by her desk.

Quick as a flash, she whips out the ribbons she bought from the flower shop, and ties Ino’s wrists to the arms of the chair.

“Warned you about what?” She asks, daring her to answer.

Ino opens her mouth, then happens to glance down at the desk. A dozen weapons lie on its surface, each one lovingly polished and organised. Ino tugs at the ribbons tying her to the chair. They don’t budge an inch.

Tenten raises her brows in challenge.

Ino gathers herself, recovering admirably quickly yet again. “Nothing at all, Tenten-san,” She says, a touch of wry humour in her voice, “I just _love_ making an idiot of myself every single day.”

Tenten huffs, finding it harder to set aside her anger as Ino had done her fear.

“I don’t doubt it. You’re in your penultimate year of the Academy, right? And they’ve not trained squeamishness out of you yet? Or was it vanity?”

Ino squirms, just a little. Her fingers flex, wrists rotating ever so slightly beneath the knots.

“Vanity, then.” Tenten sighs. Harder to get rid of without breaking the person’s self-esteem. Humility was a fine teacher, it was just difficult to weaponize.

“I’m sorry,” Ino mumbles, “It just took me by surprise.”

“There are no surprises,” Tenten says, repeating her teacher’s favourite phrase, “Just a lack of preparation in life.”

Her teacher referred to attentiveness as Second Sight. He said that you saw first with your eyes and second with your intuition, and only one would ever fail you. Your eyes only told you what was before you. Your gut told you everything that could ever be before you, behind you, and around you.

It was Second Sight that alerted Tenten to Ino’s inferiority complex. She’d never met someone so confident that still placed their self-worth in others’ hands, and it saddened her to see it in someone so smart.

“So, why the ribbons? Is this my punishment for being vain?” Ino asks, rearranging the way she’s sitting down so it’s less of an ungainly sprawl and more a graceful perch.

“More my way of making you sit still through my explanation,” Tenten says sheepishly, “I don’t know the details of your kekkei genkai, only that I have no intention of being caught in it. And maybe… if you break free without me noticing, you can be the leader of this little group. Sound good?”

Ino plays at being irritated, giving only a rough shrug in response. Tenten might’ve been fooled by her display if she hadn’t spotted Ino using the movement of the shrug to test her bonds again.

“One thing I’m really good at is seeing the potential in others. But I guess I kind of cheated, with you, since I had a secret weapon.”

Tenten takes the scroll out of its hiding place, a hollow carved behind her bed, and lays it on the floor between them.

Ino looks at eagerly, wilting at the bare expanse of paper. “It’s blank.”

Tenten grins wolfishly, “Is it?”

She touches the scroll and whispers, “What does Yamanaka Ino want most in the world?”

Ink diffuses across the page, forming patterns that eventually solidified into words, _to be loved for who she is._

Ino is unimpressed, “So… you have some kind of fortune-telling scroll?”

“If you could ask any question in the world, what would it be?” Tenten tilts her head, enjoying herself.

Ino rolls her eyes again, a little flick of pale blue.

“I bet you’d want to know who you’ll marry one day.” Tenten says.

Ino’s eyes dart back to her face, not bothering to hide her interest this time. “A fortune-telling scroll couldn’t know that.”

“This is a different kind of scroll. Who will Yamanaka Ino marry?” Tenten asks. It’s a bit of a gamble, because Ino might not like the answer. But if she does…

The scroll sketches a man’s face, stark black lines harsh against the white vellum.

“Sasuke!” Ino squeals.

“No.” Tenten frowns. She knows Sasuke’s face. This isn’t it.

This man’s eyes are rounder, his cheekbones lower.

Finally, a name etches over his head.

_Yamanaka Sai._

“Sai?” Ino’s mouth twists, “There’s no one in the clan named _Sai_.”

“Maybe he takes your name.” Tenten suggests.

A little smile crosses Ino’s face, unbidden delight at the thought, “He’s so handsome! Does he come from Konoha? I’ve never seen him before!”

 _All her doubts, erased by a pretty face,_ Tenten thinks wryly. She can’t imagine many people being swayed quite so easily on the subject of a world-changing tool like this one.

“Where is Sai now?” Tenten asks.

The scroll pauses, then shivers. Sai’s face becomes rounder, puppy-fat emerging, and his eyes get even bigger. He’s just a kid. His surroundings are sketched in hastily, a small, cramped room, rather like a cell.

Ino frowns, “Where is that?”

“Please be more specific, scroll-san,” Tenten says. Ino throws her a look, but Tenten sees nothing wrong with offering an inanimate object a little deference every once in a while. Especially when it’s smarter than her.

 _Sai is in ROOT’s headquarters,_ the scroll spells out. Tenten opens her mouth, but the scroll hurries on, as if anticipating her next question, ROOT _is a secret part of ANBU, that operates unbeknownst to the Hokage._

Tenten narrows her eyes, sinking into her ANBU self. She remembers how she became another person when she put the mask on, how she became capable of things Tenten could never do. If ROOT is another layer beyond ANBU, she can’t imagine the things _they_ must be capable of.

“Ask if he’s there by choice.” Ino asks, her quiet voice cutting through Tenten’s inner musings.

When she looks up, Ino’s eyes are full of fire, her jaw set in determination.

Tenten asks the question.

When the scroll spells out _no_ , neither of them are surprised.

“Well,” Tenten says finally, forcing the airy tone, “looks like you and I have our first mission.”

xxxxxxxx

It takes thirty minutes for Ino to get one hand free.

She was hampered by the fact that Tenten kept giving her deliberate looks, checking up on her progress, apparently oblivious to the way Ino was working her wrist, achingly slow.

Ino uses those thirty minutes to get the measure of the older girl. Tenten seems nice, if a little odd. She’s too self-effacing by far, always ready with a self-deprecating joke or a bashful shrug to stave off any illusions Ino might have of her competence. And she _is_ competent. She’d pinned Ino down and kept her there with no trouble at all, and Ino is the best kunoichi in her class. She has a feeling she would be second-best, if Tenten had been born a year later.

She’d talked about her ‘secret weapon,’ and Ino had taken it literally, expecting some great, unwieldy, chakra-enhanced sword. Instead, Tenten revealed she had the power to topple a nation. Perhaps an exaggeration, even if the scroll really was what it seemed to be, but _still_! It was the last thing she had expected, when Tenten asked her to join her little team.

Which was something she’d yet to address, and it would hopefully fill the time it would take Ino to finally wrench her left hand free.

“So, you’ve talked about missions, teams, alliances… what exactly are you hoping to happen?” She asks, tossing her head irritably to get her bangs out of her eyes.

Tenten gives that same old sheepish grin again. Ino doesn’t trust it for a second. She’s seen the steel beneath the weak smile, the flash of iron in her eyes. Ino hadn’t even meant to anger her and had actually been scared when Tenten pushed her down and she came face to face with a desk of sharpened weapons.

“Basically, I’ve got one mission that I can’t do alone. I need to save a certain person from a certain fate, and I can only do it by getting stronger.”

Ino fights to keep the scorn from her voice when she replies, “So, you want to stop one person from dying, and that’s… the entire basis of this whole thing. The team, the alliance, everything. You’re recruiting me for _one_ mission?”

“Well, I don’t know who I have to save, or when, or where,” Tenten’s smile turns playful, as if she can sense Ino’s attention sharpen, “all I know is that he’s going to die unless I get stronger. I don’t know about you, but I believe true strength lies in numbers. I work best in a team. And I saw you in the future. We were friends, ANBU teammates. Seeing how strong we’re going to be made me think… what if we got a head start?”

 _ANBU_? Ino forgets herself, mouth dropping open. _I’m going to be ANBU? One of the elite?_ Only a handful of shinobi are ever chosen from every generation… and she’s going to be one of them.

Tenten’s watching her with gentle amusement, a benign smile on her lips. Ino feels an ugly twist in her gut – a feeling she’s all too familiar with – and subtly plants her feet on the floor, hardening her spine.

She drops her eyes as if in contemplation, then tears her arm free, hauling the chair between them with the ribbon still attached to her other arm. She looks up to get a hold on Tenten’s position, then gawps, her hand dangling uselessly as she drops the chair.

Tenten is _gone_.

The lightest of thuds is all the warning Ino gets when Tenten drops down behind her, and it’s far, far too late by that point.

Tenten pulls the discarded ribbon gently around Ino’s neck, a mockery of a killing blow.

“You tried to jump me from the front, right before my very eyes. In my own room, a territory I’m obviously familiar with and you aren’t. And you only bothered to free one hand before acting, leaving you shackled to the chair. It’s interesting that you tried to use it as a shield, but with a bit of patience you could’ve had _both_ hands free _and_ the element of surprise. I appreciate the effort, but… you could do better.”

Ino’s been grinding her teeth throughout the older girl’s lecture, and she rips the ribbon out of Tenten’s lax grip, hurling it to the ground.

“I could so beat – ” Ino snarls, spinning around to face her.

She shuts her mouth so quickly her teeth clack together.

Tenten beams at her wickedly, a _red panda_ sitting on her shoulder, “I cheated again. I had Fang hiding in my wardrobe, watching your every move. You never noticed my choker vanished?”

“Your _what_ – ” Ino feels her indignant expression melt away as she recalls. Tenten’s cutesy, tacky choker, the one with the red panda face.

Tenten’s smile is beatific, and all too enraging.

“Whatever!” Ino throws her hand up, the effect slightly diminished when she stumbles, automatically trying to move her captive hand too, “I got out of your stupid ribbons, so I’m the leader.”

“Leader of what, not listening to wagers before you make them?” Tenten snorts. “I said you could be leader if you broke free… _without_ me noticing.”

“You did say that, Tenten-chan.” The red panda said, tail curling around Tenten’s neck. “I distinctly remember you saying that.”

 _God_ , Ino hates feeling off-balance. So she tosses her head, purses her lips, and plants her one free hand on her hip.

“Okay, then,” She says, pearly white teeth clenched in a parody of a smile, “you’re the boss.”

Tenten’s smile turns wry, as if she can sense the anger boiling in Ino’s veins and thinks it’s kind of funny. Or pathetic.

“Nope. I’m the leader, and you’re my right-hand gal. Okay?” Tenten says hopefully.

Ino catches herself rolling her eyes, yet again, and stops. Right-hand gal might be one of the more stupid things Tenten’s said so far, but the sentiment… Ino being her _first choice_ out of the entire village, implicitly trusting Ino with a life-changing secret after knowing her for at most, an hour… Ino can appreciate the sentiment.

 _I saw you in the future,_ Tenten had said, _we were friends._

Ino only has one real friend, someone who abandoned her because she was sick of being suffocated under her wing. Sakura wanted a chance to bloom in the light, out of Ino’s shadow. Ino stepped back, didn’t try to chase her friendship. She’d hoped Sakura would visit the shop one day, timid and remorseful, begging her forgiveness. And Ino wouldn’t even acknowledge it. She’d toss her head and smirk, and say something cool like, ‘oh, were you gone? I didn’t even notice. C’mon, help me with these flower arrangements. Put that massive forehead of yours to good use.’

That’s what she’d been thinking about, when Tenten stopped by that morning. Imagining her friend returning to her, and everything being exactly as it was.

Now, she was tied to a chair in a room full of weapons, facing down an obscenely-optimistic senpai with a red panda dangling from her neck.

Maybe she didn’t need everything to be exactly as it was. Maybe she needed everything to change.

“Partner sounds better.” Ino gives a tentative smile, slow and sweet, and watches something new blossom before her.

xxxxxxxx

Tenten is on her bed, lying on her stomach, the scroll spread open in front of her.

“Do you have a name, scroll-san?” She asks curiously.

The scroll remains blank for several long seconds, like a blink of surprise, then characters form slowly, almost shy.

“Yoin.” Tenten repeats. It’s not a name, not really. It means reverberation, trailing note. Lingering memory. “Yoin-hakase, then.”

Hakase is the suffix her mother uses when she talks to the old scholar that shows up at the store just for a chat. _Intelligence is useful, wisdom is priceless,_ Kanon often tells Tenten. She always listens to every word the old man says. _Moriyama-hakase has a wealth to share whenever he speaks._

The scroll – Yoin – ripples with colour, almost like a blush.

Tenten takes her hair down, feeling the tightness in her scalp recede. She lies down, chestnut locks spilling across her pillow. Paper brushes against her cheek as she turns her head, the scroll curling up on the mattress.

“Who is the Hyuuga that died in my vision?” Tenten whispers.

Yoin shimmers, then wipes blank, just as it did the night before when she asked the same question.

It seemed there was a limit to Yoin’s knowledge after all, and it extended to the mystery man whose life Tenten has sworn to save.

***

Hello, friends!

Yes, Tenten used a stinkbomb on Neji.

Yes, he absolutely deserved it.

Poor Ino, having accidentally rejected someone who actually wanted to recruit her for a super-secret shinobi team dedicated to saving the world. And poor Ino, getting tied up with ribbons she actually sold to her assailant. It’s just not her day.

I’m still so frustrated with the total lack of info we have about Tenten. We know SO MUCH about so many Naruto characters, but for some reason Tenten didn’t even get a surname. Hmph. However, the Naruto wiki tells me her hobby is fortune-telling, which is… insanely relevant to this fic.

The next few chapters should have: Tenten’s first mission as a Champion of Future Justice and Team Gai meeting for the first time. I’m sure Neji will be polite and civil and not at all murderous.

It’s not that Tenten didn’t recognise Neji in the vision per se, it’s more like she didn’t want to. Because if she acknowledges that he is, for definite, the mystery Hyuuga, that means:

1) He’s gonna die young and tragic.

2) She’s gonna fall in love with him.

So instead she’s going the good old-fashioned route of emotional repression. Very healthy!

Tenten got her first recruit, Yamanaka Ino! And sure, she’s not who you’d normally pick for your team, but that girl’s surprisingly wily and has some scary claws on her.

Speaking of Ino, here’s her playlist:

https://open.spotify.com/user/t964t4kj8pz9nlxbl03wiloq2/playlist/35Szeoqrxfj5ZuRSHNK73l

The scroll has a name! Yoin! And it seems like it might be kind of sweet, maybe? A shy little scroll.

Fang didn’t get any poems in this chapter because he’s busy writing them behind the scenes. He’s super happy to see you, though! (please look up pictures/videos of red pandas. They are some of my absolute favourite animals for a reason)

(A family member of mine is having a semi-serious operation tomorrow. I would really appreciate you guys sending good vibes, if that’s okay. Thank you!)

At the moment I’m toying with the idea of these minor pairings: **NaruHina, SaiIno, ShikaTema, SakuKarin, GaaLee, ShinoSasu, and KakaGai.**

 **Quick poll for fun:** What is your favourite Naruto crack pairing?

If you don’t know, a crack pairing is a romantic pairing that is absolutely ridiculous, bizarre, or just unlikely. (if you’re not sure if your pairing counts, tell me anyway! I love hearing about what you guys ship!)


	4. Chapter 4

The first colours of the day are blending across the sky: smudges of smoky blue mixing with faint purple, streaks of warm pink mixing with amber sunlight, and wisps of pastel, dark grey clouds.

Tenten stares straight up as she walks, craning her neck to catch every shade of the sunrise. She doesn’t care if she looks like an idiot. She loves sunrises. It’s her favourite time of day. Whether she’s just woken up or has outlasted the night to witness the beginning of day, she loves seeing the darkness fade and the light return. There’s always a sense of accomplishment that comes with seeing yet another sunrise.

She’s carrying some fairly heavy baskets, which earns her some offers of help from some well-meaning early risers. She just smiles, shaking her head. She actually enjoys lifting weights, feeling the burn stretch through her muscles. Carrying a few baskets of groceries is nothing in comparison. Kanon packed enough bento to last the month, each one bearing a carefully painted preservation seal to keep the food fresh. She packed the weapons separately in another basket, kunai mixed with shuriken, all finely-crafted and polished, along with wire and a few traps.

Tenten smiles politely somewhere to the left of the hooded figure watching her passage through the streets. ANBU had always been her heroes, growing up, like secret guardians of the village, but now knowing in intimate detail how they operated, she couldn’t help but be wary. She remembers disliking it when someone tried to make eye contact with her through the mask, so now she avoids looking directly at any ANBU she sees, just in case they feel the same as she did.

She knows why this particular ANBU is stationed across the street, watching her solitary stroll through the barely-populated streets of Konoha. The turns she has taken have put her on a single path. The shadows seem to lengthen as she approaches the abandoned neighbourhood, the sound of the wind and birdsong hushing at once when she enters the Compound.

As a child, she rarely visited Sasuke at his home. It wasn’t because she disliked it, or because her mother forbade it, she just felt very obviously out of place whenever she was there. She remembered seeing dark eyes looking at her wherever she went in the Compound, far too conscious of her movements. She didn’t know then, but now she does: the Uchiha mistrusted outsiders, even if they happened to be children. It made their eventual fate that much more tragic, dying at the hands of a trusted insider.

Tenten is musing on the unfairness of life as she reaches Sasuke’s home, and doesn’t notice she isn’t alone until it’s too late.

She places the baskets on Sasuke’s porch, tugging a blanket over the one bearing food, and straightens them both out so they’re at the most welcoming alignment for when he first sees them.

She places her hands on her hips, pleased with her work.

“I don’t want charity.” Sasuke says from behind her.

Tenten nearly leaps out of her skin.

She spins around, already scowling, “Oi! When did you get so stealthy? At this rate, you’ll surpass me before _either_ of us has even graduated.”

Sasuke says nothing, just shrugs his shoulders in a way that says, _of course._

A few years ago, Tenten would have lightly clouted him over the head for his cheek. After a few missteps in the wake of the massacre, she’s learned to be more cautious about physical contact with Sasuke.

“And what do you mean, charity?” Tenten demands. “You’ve more than paid for the baskets just by helping me out with Neji.”

Sasuke stuffs his hands in his pockets and gazes into the distance. Before, Tenten would’ve mocked him for trying to look cool. Now, she resentfully had to note that he _did_ look cool.

“And all the baskets before?” He raises an eyebrow. “Were you thanking me years in advance for tripping Hyuuga Neji up?”

Tenten almost smirks, touching her Fang choker, “Yep. You know me and my fortune-telling – I saw a _really_ specific card in the deck a few years ago. The ‘Sasuke’s gonna make a Hyuuga look like an idiot’ card. It’s very rare. So I’ve been thanking you ever since.”

“With bento made by your mother and weapons also made by your mother.” Sasuke says dryly.

“Well, it’s not like I can make any of it.” Tenten says lightly. “Seriously, brat. Don’t fight me on this. Humour me and my crazy mother, we really like giving away food.”

“And weapons.” Sasuke says. Of course he focuses on that particular basket.

“The shop’s just a front, we really give most of the stock away. It’s not great for business, but y’know. Old habits.”

“Tenten.” Sasuke says flatly.

“Sasuke!” She replies cheerily, plastering an enormous grin on her face.

He rolls his eyes, “I’m not a child. I don’t need you or your mother’s charity.”

Tenten scowls. _This_ is why she came here at sunrise. She’d assumed he would be asleep, like any normal human being. In all the years she’s been making ‘anonymous’ deliveries from her mother to Sasuke’s porch, she’s only encountered him in the process a handful of times.

Today it looks as though he was just coming back from training, probably through the night, knowing his particular brand of idiocy.

“There’s some bandages and ointment in that basket.” Tenten says, eyeing the various cuts and bruises littering his skin.

He makes a _tch_ sound, tossing his head.

“Listen, that pride of yours might keep you warm, but it’s not gonna keep you fed.” Tenten says reasonably, ignoring the way his mildly irritated gaze dials up to a furious glare. “You need nutrients you won’t get from protein bars and solitude. If you don’t have a balanced diet, you’ll find it hard to build muscle tone. And I bet you want arms like me, right?”

She flexes, showing off her lightly-muscled biceps. Her mother told her not to expect any real kind of definition until she was older, but she was doing pretty well even now.

Sasuke almost looks amused.

“I can handle it on my own.” He insists, with less force than before.

“Sure you can! But you don’t have to. Especially since there’s extra tomatoes in the bento.”

Sasuke rolls his eyes, stepping over the baskets to get to his front door.

Tenten kicks them towards him, suppressing a smirk when they connect with the backs of his legs, sending an almost-imperceptible wobble through his posture. It’s hard to look cool when you’re trying not to lose balance, and even Sasuke fails at it.

“If you don’t take them, I’m going to set up traps all throughout your house.” Tenten says threateningly.

“You’d have to disable the traps that are already there.” Sasuke says, unperturbed.

Tenten scoffs, “Which of us is the weapons mistress here? Pretty sure it’s not you. Take the baskets, or risk waking up with pretty pink hair.”

Sasuke stares her down for a long moment, then, not breaking eye contact, bends down to scoop up the baskets in both arms.

He grumbles something about how she’s wasting his time, retreating into his house without a backward glance.

Tenten places a hand over her heart, feigning being overcome with emotion from his tender display of friendship.

She takes off back home, whistling a jaunty tune.

The ANBU shadows don’t detach themselves from the roofs to follow her, so she counts that as a win.

xxxxxxxx

Tenten opens the door to a mouthful of flowers.

She delicately spits out a few petals, nudging the bouquet out of her face, “Uh, hi?”

Ino lowers the flowers, looking faintly embarrassed, “I didn’t think you’d be that close – um, sorry. I guess.”

“Nah, it’s okay. My mother keeps saying I have to eat more greens, you know?” Tenten gives an easy chuckle, stepping back to let Ino inside the house.

Ino mimes laughter, then rolls her eyes. Fondly, Tenten’s sure.

“The flowers are for – oh!” Ino says, startled.

Kanon’s left her workspace, leaning against the wall of the hallway. She’s wearing a sleeveless tunic, to avoid getting grease stains or scorch marks on her kimonos. Her left arm is bare, the long claw-like scars on full display, stretched across her forearm. The day Tenten learned about wounds and the scars they leave at school was the same day she figured out Kanon must’ve been holding up her hands in surrender when she was attacked.

“Tenten’s friend.” Kanon says. Her gaze is measuring.

Ino seems to seize courage from somewhere, her chin angling up as she surges forward, proffering the bouquet, “These are for you, Kanon-san. I just wanted to say I was sorry. I was rude and stupid.”

Kanon eyes the flowers with an amused, faintly incredulous smile, “Well. That’s a nice gesture, Ino. I appreciate it. Tenten, could you find a vase for these?”

Tenten takes the bouquet, happy to have an excuse to leave this moment as it grows. Sentimentality doesn’t come easily for her, or her mother. She’s not sure how well Ino does with it either, judging by her somewhat brusque, insensitive demeanour. Though that might be a little unfair, considering the apology.

When she comes back, Ino’s cheeks are faintly pink and Kanon is smirking. A sign of terrible things, Tenten is sure of it.

“We’ll be upstairs, okay?” Tenten says hurriedly, snatching Ino’s arm and half-dragging her up the stairs.

Kanon waves them off, still looking beyond amused.

“What did you say?” Tenten hisses the moment her bedroom door closes behind them.

Ino huffs, extricating her arm with an overly-dramatic flounce, “Well, you were gone for ages, and I was getting… kind of… not _nervous_ , exactly, but your mother is… well, she’s the kunoichi I want to be one day – ”

“She’s not a kunoichi.” Tenten corrects automatically.

“She’s not?” Ino blinks. “But she’s so…”

“Scary?”

“No!” Ino protests. Then she clasps her hands to her chest, looking disturbingly wistful. “She’s _beautiful_.”

“You can be scary _and_ beautiful.” Tenten shrugs, then registers what Ino just said. “Um, excuse me?”

“What? She _is_!”

“She’s my mother, is what she is.” Tenten says snappishly, getting a little grumpy.

“I’m gonna be just like her one day.” Ino says dreamily.

“What the hell did you talk about while I was gone?” Tenten says, horrified.

“Well, she still looked kind of mad at me. And she’s a little intimidating. And pretty. And I just… I wanted to break the ice, you know? So I told her about how we met.” Ino says, wincing when she finishes the sentence, as if expecting Tenten to erupt.

“At your shop?”

“My dad’s shop. And… yes and no… I may have also mentioned later on, in the park…” Ino’s cheeks are full-on scarlet now.

Tenten closes her eyes, “You told her you rejected my not-confession.”

“It… made her laugh?” Ino says sheepishly. “I was willing to do anything to stop her staring at me.”

Tenten sighs. She’s never going to hear the end of this from her mother. Something catches her eye and she squints, peering at Ino’s face. Her eyelids look kind of… glittery?

“Are you wearing makeup?” She asks, screwing her face up in confusion.

Ino tosses her hair over her shoulder, a clearly practised move, “Duh.”

“Why? We’re supposed to be discussing our plan today, not… going out dancing.” Tenten says, hoping it’s not too obvious she’s completely out of touch with makeup in general and what it’s used for.

“Wearing makeup won’t distract me from plotting with you,” Ino says, treating her to an extra glittery eye roll, “Anyway, makeup is a staple for kunoichi. Didn’t you pay attention in class?”

“Oh no, I slept through all that stuff. The teacher said I’d be no good at it all.” Tenten says brightly.

Ino goes still, an offended sneer forming on her face, “Um, _what_? Why?”

“Well, you know. Because I’m not exactly… pretty?” Tenten says, unsure of why Ino’s mouth is stretching so far downwards that it’s crossing the line from annoyed to comical.

Ino is so visibly enraged that energy is crackling all around her. She takes a deep breath in, shutting her eyes, and throws herself down on the bed.

“Your teacher was a jealous bitch.” She informs her bluntly.

Tenten blinks. “A – a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“Nope!” Fang chirps, making them both jump. He climbs down from Tenten’s wardrobe. She’s made him a nice nest in there, the top shelf a mess of blankets and overstuffed cushions. “Tenten-chan is very beautiful! Whoever says otherwise is either stupid or mean.”

“I agree with the weird squirrel,” Ino says solemnly, then continues over Fang’s outraged squawk, “For starters, you _are_ pretty – ”

“I’m having horrible flashbacks to you fake-rejecting me.” Tenten says flatly.

“Wh-whatever! That wasn’t because you’re ugly, it was because I’m marrying Sasuke-kun! Or, well, Sai. Whoever. _Anyway._ You’re pretty, in an earthy, I-don’t-care kind of way. It’s cool. And as if kunoichi have to be drop dead gorgeous at like, ten years old, otherwise it’s obvious they’ll never succeed in seduction missions? _Ugh,_ what a bitch. You know what? I’m gonna prove her wrong. Sit still.”

Ino’s hands are suddenly in Tenten’s face.

Tenten swats them away automatically.

“Stay still!” Ino repeats sternly, as if addressing a naughty child. “I’m just gonna give you a nice, natural look, okay?”

“I already have that!” Tenten protests, trying to fend off Ino’s grabby hands.

Ino is peering at Tenten’s eyebrows and tutting. What could be wrong with her eyebrows? Do people even do anything with them? She’s never seen anyone walking around with glittery brows.

Ino pulls out a few things from her bag. They all look fairly innocuous, but there’s some black goopy stuff that looks like it’d stain pretty much anything, and some colourful powder in little boxes.

“Save me, Fang.” Tenten deadpans.

“Are you painting your fur?” He asks cheerily, “How nice!”

“The red rat agrees with me.” Ino says, grabbing an assortment of tiny brushes, for some reason.

Fang mouths ‘rat’ to himself, his furry forehead wrinkling in confusion.

“Look, I – I’ll ask the scroll any question you want if you don’t do this, okay?” Tenten pleads.

Yoin obligingly unfurls across the bed, shimmering in anticipation of a question.

“Nope.” Ino says with horrible finality, seizing Tenten’s chin and angling her head up. “There’ll be time for that later. For now, I’m gonna prove that bitch teacher wrong, and make you look even better than you already do.”

“That was something approaching a compliment.” Tenten warns in a grumbling tone.

Ino starts aggressively brushing something into Tenten’s eyebrows. She sighs, resigning herself to a horrific afternoon of being poked and prodded.

xxxxxxxx

When the long nightmare is over and done, Tenten stares at her reflection with something approaching awed dismay.

She looks… painted. Like a pretty picture that should be hung on a wall. Or a festival mask perfectly cut to fit around her face.

Her eyebrows look darker and the shape looks subtly different in a way she can’t quite place. Her left brow normally has a tiny scar bisecting the arch, but now it’s gone. Ino brushed what she called ‘nude eyeshadow’ over Tenten’s eyelids, despite her pointing out that her lids were _already nude._ Apparently, her kind of nude was the wrong kind.

She literally painted Tenten’s entire face and neck with something cold and wet. Tenten _really_ didn’t like this part, especially when she looked at herself and every single one of her freckles was gone. It was like someone wiped away every distinguishing feature on her face, leaving her with some near-perfect mask.

Worst of all was the sticky lip stuff. The moment Ino started applying it, Tenten knew it would smear all over her chin. It was already beginning to migrate south, the formerly-clean lines of her mouth becoming blurred. It was ‘nude brown,’ apparently.

Tenten frowns at herself, “Um, thanks, Ino. It’s… it’s great.”

Ino snorts, “And you’re gonna be a kunoichi with those amazing skills of deception? It’s okay if you don’t like it, dummy. I can try some other stuff with you, if you like. Maybe find something more to your tastes instead of mine.”

Tenten gives a small, grateful smile.

It fades the moment Ino starts scrubbing the makeup off her face.

She would complain more, but she’s getting the feeling that Ino is genuinely excited to be doing this. She’s not sure if she just really loves makeovers, or if it’s something else altogether.

Once her face is clean again – and she can’t help but be relieved her mother didn’t get to see it, because she can only imagine the amount of teasing she would endure as a result – Ino sprawls across the bed, grabbing Yoin and bringing it close to her face.

“I really don’t get how this thing works,” Ino says, examining every inch of the scroll, “What can it do, exactly?"

“Um, if you use chakra when touching it, you might see a vision of the future. And it can show you people, and answer certain questions.” Tenten replies. In truth, she isn’t quite sure how Yoin works at all. The things it can and can’t do seem inconsistent. There’s no rhyme or reason behind its internal logic, or if there is, she doesn’t understand it.

“You say ‘ _you_ ’ as if it works for anyone else. It wouldn’t answer my questions, remember?”

“Or mine.” Fang says sadly, tail swishing.

“And seriously, you have a summons already? You’re not even from a clan, and you claim your mother’s a civilian – ”

“Because she is.”

“ – So how do you have a summons? I’m so jealous.” Ino pouts, eyeing up Fang as if considering the best way to shove him into her bag.

“The scroll showed me. I asked how I could get stronger, and it drew a picture of the summoning scroll, which was also in the attic.”

“Your magical attic filled with forbidden scrolls that belong to your not-shinobi mother.”

“That’s the one, yes,” Tenten replies, trying not to sound too defensive. But seriously, Ino’s incredulity is a little grating. She _knows_ it’s weird. She’s just trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“You said his name was Fang, right?” Ino puts her hands on her hips, eyeing up the red panda dubiously, “Your name means fragrant, beautiful. You sure you can live up to that kind of name?”

The fur on Fang’s back puffs up in outrage, “Of course I can! Xia-sama says I’m a very pretty colour, and that I bathe the most often so I smell the best.”

Tenten scratches behind his ears. He beams up at her in response, making soft chittering noises.

“I’m going to get beautiful white horse summons one day.” Ino says, eyes gleaming as she stares off into the distance.

“From where?”

“Your attic, where else? _Hmph_. I’ll figure it out later. What else can the scroll do?”

“Well… I asked about allies, and it showed me this.” Tenten taps Yoin gently. Inked lines spiral into being, forming the same map and countdown. The days are running out. “So, I figured it meant that at _this_ point and _this_ time, I can find allies here.”

“Not far from Konoha,” Ino muses, “You’ll have a hard time leaving the village before you graduate. How will you get there in time?”

Tenten grins. This, she’s prepared for. She grabs a few loose papers from her desk and spreads them across her bed, carefully making sure not cover Yoin up. “My mother does business with suppliers from outside of the village. They use wagons to transport their goods, and their routes are marked on maps and sent ahead of time to clients so they know exactly where their products are and when. Look here.”

She points to one of the supply lines, then taps the same spot on Yoin.

“You think your allies will be in the wagon?” Ino asks. She brushes her hair out of her eyes, looking thoughtful as she scans both papers. “Or… attacking the wagon?”

“Well, the prospective dates for both the wagon and the allies match up, just about. If the clients can get these maps, it’s not a stretch to think someone up to no good could as well. So, either my allies are in one of the wagons, or they might be robbing one. I’ll have to figure that out when I get there, I guess.”

Ino looks dubious, “If your allies are bandits, your magic map sucks. I’m just saying.”

Yoin’s map slowly fades, as if ashamed.

Tenten glares at Ino, “Hey, he’s not been wrong yet.”

“He?” Ino’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Uh… I mean…”

Tenten firms her stance, “Whatever, it seems like a he to me, okay? He said his name was Yoin.”

A smiley face doodles across the page.

Ino sighs, but she’s smiling back in a reflexive response, “Sure, the magic map’s a guy. I guess. Hey, Yoin, who are Tenten’s allies?”

The smiley face fades away.

Tenten repeats the question, but nothing comes up.

“Specificity isn’t your strong point.” Ino informs the scroll, punctuating the statement with a flick of her perfect hair.

Yoin turns apologetically pearlescent.

“Oh…” Ino sits back, a deep frown settling on her face. “I just realised. There’s no way my parents will ever let me go with you.”

Tenten makes a sympathetic face, though truthfully it had never once occurred to her to bring Ino on the mission.

“Will _your_ parents let you?” Ino asks, eyebrow raised.

“Parent,” Tenten corrects lightly, “And… I guess I’ll have to just ask? I think my mother would notice if I snuck out for a week or two.”

“Might be longer, depending on the journey,” Ino says sullenly, pouting so exaggeratedly it _had_ to be put on, “What should I do in the meantime?”

Tenten perks up, remembering something she’d discovered along with Yoin’s name, “Hey, Yoin-hakase,” She says, excited, ignoring Ino’s incredulous snort at the respectful suffix, “Can you please bring up the diagram of Konoha’s ANBU routes for today?”

Yoin shimmers a few times, as if thinking, then a map of Konoha ripples into being, with the routes of each ANBU tracked in different colours and marked with the time they would be there.

“It’s different from yesterday,” Tenten observes, “The ANBU must switch their routes up every now and then. Okay, I have just the job for you. Copy this down and then check it out tomorrow – see if the route’s the same or not. I’ve noticed a cluster follow that Uzumaki Naruto kid. I want to nail down whether it’s the same team every time, and how closely they follow him.”

“Why would they follow Naruto?” Ino asks, wrinkling her nose, “What’s the point?”

“That’s what I want to know. I think Naruto is the guy who was with my Hyuuga when he died. My future self seemed to think he’d be Hokage one day.” Tenten says, charitably ignoring the scepticism on Ino’s face.

She didn’t just ‘seem to think’ it, her future self had been convinced. Even now, thinking of Naruto brought feelings of amusement, pride, assurance. Nothing she’d ever felt for him before the scroll. She’s curious to see what changes her mind.

“If we’re going to save Sai from ROOT, we need to observe their patterns, find their weaknesses and figure out where they keep their young recruits,” Tenten says grimly, “Since there’s no way we can pick out ROOT agents without going right up to one and asking Yoin, I think we should start with regular ANBU. Get some practice with surveillance.”

Ino nods, lost in thought. Her hand falls on Yoin, who ripples in response.

Tenten bounces up from the bed, clapping her hands once, “I’m gonna ask my mother for permission to meet the supply wagon and escort it to Konoha. She’s done it a few times. I’ll say I want practice for my future missions as a genin.”

She goes to leave, but Ino hooks a foot around her leg, nearly toppling her over.

“Not so fast, senpai,” Ino grins wickedly, “I want to see if your hair can survive outside of buns. I’m thinking it’ll just fall out.”

Tenten scowls.

It takes Ino half an hour to brush Tenten’s hair out and weave it into a fishtail braid, her fingers flashing expertly fast.

Tenten spends the time waiting for Ino to finish just quietly glowing to herself. She’s never had a female friend before. The only person who’s ever actually touched her hair is her mother – outside of bratty little boys trying to pull her pigtails. And now, Ino.

It’s kind of nice.

xxxxxxxx

Kanon’s lip quirk at the sight of Tenten’s new hairstyle, but she just listens in silence to Tenten’s plan to meet the supply wagon, only interjecting to say, “Why do you want to escort them now? You’ve never been interested in that side of the business before.”

Tenten allows herself to shift uncomfortably, hating herself for lying to her mother, “I just… it’s nearly time for me to graduate, if I pass the test – ”

“You will pass the test,” Kanon interrupts serenely, so quietly confident that Tenten feels a surge of warmth.

“ – okay, _when_ I pass the test, I’ll be put on a team and have to start training for missions. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t resent growing up in a civilian family and I wouldn’t have it any other way, but the chances are I’ll get stuck with two clan kids who are already ten steps ahead of me and I’d just feel like deadweight dragging them down if I didn’t have even a little experience of shinobi life. I just thought, maybe I could get a head start that even _they_ won’t have.”

“A pre-mission.” Kanon muses, tapping her chin. For a civilian, she sure is well-versed in how the system works. Tenten’s never thought to question it before. “It would look good on your record that you actively sought out work without pay or reward. I’ll allow it.”

Before Tenten could rejoice, Kanon held up a graceful hand. Her dark red lips curved down, the scars on her face pulling taut, “You will accept a chuunin escort.”

“But _I’m_ the escort! This is _my_ mission!”

“You’re a minor. I’m your mother. You’re already asking a fair amount here, sweetheart. Besides, gallivanting outside of Konoha on your own wouldn’t count as a pre-mission. You need a shinobi with you to observe your work, after all. I’ll submit the request myself, and make sure you get someone decent to take you.”

 _A request?_ Tenten’s face fell at the thought. _But that would cost money, wouldn’t it?_ _I don’t want my mother to end up paying for my lies._

As if she can hear her thoughts, Kanon pokes her cheek with a light, fluting laugh, and says, “We’re not exactly struggling to get by, honey. And this is your future career. It’s important to invest in it early, and you were right – you were not born into the life you chose, Tenten. That means it will always be harder for you to progress. But you can do it.”

Tenten swallows.

She knew going into this that she would have to lie, probably a lot, and to people she loves. But knowing isn’t the same as doing. The warmth in her mother’s eyes has never made her feel guilty before. It’s not a welcome sensation.

“I’ll do my best, Okaa-san,” Tenten says solemnly, meaning every word.

Kanon simply shrugs, her sleeve slipping off one shoulder, “I won’t bore you with constant affirmations. You already know I’m your biggest fan. Now come help me with this stupid spear thing I’m trying to design. It keeps turning into a sword and frankly, I have so many of them that it’s becoming a problem.”

xxxxxxxx

Tenten wakes up with Fang’s tail in her face and the dawning horror that she is very, very late.

She manages to grab all her things, stuff Yoin in her pack without crumpling him, and poke Fang into transforming into his choker form in time for the first rays of sunlight to permeate her room. She rushes downstairs, almost bumping into Kanon as she emerges bleary-eyed from her workshop, clearly having spent the night on her new project.

“Good morning Okaa-san, I’ve got to go!” Tenten says, kissing her mother on the cheek and darting out the front door.

“Bye, darling!” Kanon calls, too ladylike to holler after her daughter as she charges off.

Tenten makes it to the Hyuuga Compound with three minutes to spare. She spends that time wheezing, wishing she’d spent more time working on her basic fitness, and trying desperately to tame her hair into its usual buns. It was harder than it looked, especially without a mirror.

Her mother had submitted the request for a chuunin escort a week ago, speeding the process along with a generous donation, and Tenten’s countdown was almost up, so she couldn’t protest her mother’s expense. Tenten was told to meet her escort Hyuuga Kou at the Compound – an unpleasant order to receive. She’d spent most of the last week wondering if this ‘Kou’ might be her dying Hyuuga. As usual, Yoin had nothing to say on the matter.

Neji walks out of the main gate of the Compound, his eerie eyes already on her as he passes by. Tenten stares, one hand wrestling with a lopsided bun, a hair tie hanging out of her mouth.

He gives her an icily disdainful look, lingering on her eyes. She distantly remembers having tried the eyeliner Ino left her the night before, getting frustrated with the way it kept smudging. She’d fallen into bed without giving her attempts at beautification a second thought.

She must have dark rings around her eyes at best… smoky smudges all over her face at worst.

Her cheeks burn. Of all the people to see her looking ridiculous, of course it had to be Hyuuga Neji.

“Good morning,” She says, trying to be civil.

“Hm,” He replies, not trying at all.

“Where are you off to so early?”

He gives her a disbelieving sneer. He’d be a lot cuter without it.

“Training,” He says, as if there’s no other possible reason he could be outside.

“How… dedicated of you,” Tenten says, trying to smile rather than bare her teeth in challenge. What is it about Neji that annoys her so much? It’s like every time he talks, he wears on her nerves a little more. Sasuke has exactly the same training habits, but she finds him exasperating. Neji just seems like an ego-driven ass.

Neji seems to deem this unworthy of response, as he merely turns a little to the side, blocking her out, and starts stretching.

_Great. I don’t want to talk to him, but I don’t want to awkwardly stand here in total silence waiting for my Hyuuga escort to show up._

She tries to pass the time by checking her equipment for the mission. Yoin is safely stuffed in her pack, uncreased and cheerful, judging by the happy swirls he’s drawing for no particular reason. Fang is currently in choker form, a warm presence around her throat. It’s kind of like the feeling of drinking hot chocolate. She has her many, many weapons scrolls packed in the same bag as Yoin. She tugs the top of one out, examining the inked kanji. Her mother helps her make all her seals, though this year she actually let Tenten do it on her own. This scroll is her work, and she’s never been more proud than she was the moment she successfully sealed a pair of chopsticks inside.

She looks up to check the sun’s position, accidentally making eye contact with Neji at the same time. He’d been looking at her as she rooted around in her pack. His gaze stutters away, darting to the sky then back to her face, then to the floor.

Tenten opens her mouth to call him on the staring, because she’s not a saint.

He beats her to it, “Why are you here? You’re dressed for a mission, but you’re in my year at the Academy.”

“You just figured that out recently, huh?” Tenten laughs. She doesn’t mind. She knows with her dark hair and eyes, she’s not exactly memorable. Especially not when there are Hyuuga around. Neji’s eyes are almost like opals, so pale his gaze reflects a thousand colours.

Neji stiffens, taking it for mockery rather than gentle teasing.

Tenten gets there first before he can butt in, “And I _am_ going on a mission. Sort of. A pre-mission. I’m here to meet my chuunin escort, who is… actually really late.”

Neji looks back at the Compound. Tenten might be reading too much into things, but she sees resentment on his face, mixed with bitter longing. A bad combination.

“Your escort is a Hyuuga?” He asks stiffly, “What kind of pre-mission requires someone from Konoha’s strongest?”

Tenten fights back a grimace. The only reason the Hyuuga are considered the strongest is because most of the Uchiha are dead. It’s not the greatest legacy to boast about.

“Once you graduate the Academy, Neji-kun, you’ll find that all shinobi, no matter their status, complete missions of every rank,” An older Hyuuga says, emerging from the main gate. His words are gently spoken, but Neji reacts as if he was slapped, recoiling from his relative.

“Um, are you Hyuuga Kou?” Tenten asks, hoping to ease the tension that emerged the moment Neji heard the man speak.

The older Hyuuga nods, giving her an earnest smile. He’s very handsome. Dimples form in his cheeks when he smiles, so Tenten immediately wants to find out how to make him do it on command.

 _He’s so cute,_ she thinks, horrified. _How am I supposed to concentrate on this mission and secretly recruit my allies when I’m being blinded by his smile?_

“And you must be Tenten-san,” Kou says warmly.

“I hardly think an Academy Student deserves such a respectful address,” Neji says, eyes narrowed, “Especially not one without a family name.”

Tenten feels a hot flush sweep over her cheeks. She’s more angry than embarrassed, but she knows what her red face will signal to Neji. Sure enough, he looks pleased with himself. This would normally be the part where Tenten would either punch the person who annoyed her or be nice to them to confuse them, depending on how much she hates them. Unfortunately punching Neji in front of his house and relative seems like a bad idea. Even though she’d definitely miss. And there’s no way she’s going to be nice to him now. Civility is for the worthy, after all.

“You know, you’re right, Neji-kun.” Kou says thoughtfully. Tenten shrinks back. Even he thinks she’s so obviously beneath him? Neji smirks. “So. Tenten- _chan_ , it’s an honour and a pleasure to be working with you. This is my first pre-mission, so please take care of me.”

Neji looks as though he swallowed a lemon.

Tenten is startled into laughter, “O-of course, Kou-san!”

The older Hyuuga waves his finger, “None of that. We’re equals on this mission, Tenten-chan.”

“Then…” Tenten glances at Neji, whose face is growing stormier by the second. “It’s an honour to work with you, Kou-kun.”

***

Hello, friends!

Sorry for the long gap between chapters. I’ve been struggling with writer’s block and I had to fight to finish this… _sob_.

So, in this fic, Tenten, Sasuke and a mystery fellow genin were all childhood friends. Before it all went tits up and Sasuke’s family got killed. Tenten and Sasuke rarely speak now, but they’re the kind of close you can’t help being when you witnessed someone else’s bad childhood haircuts and heard their first voice cracks of puberty. Kanon occasionally sends Tenten with gift baskets to keep Sasuke alive, since she doesn’t trust that he’s capable of feeding himself.

Ino brought flowers for Tenten’s mother, but accidentally shoved them in Tenten’s mouth.

So, I hate every single implication about the kid kunoichi being taught extra special kunoichi lessons about seduction. I hate them. I think it doesn’t make any sense to only teach the girls a vital part of being a ninja??? Sometimes boys gotta smooch, not smash. They need access to the subtler arts!

Also I REALLY hate the fact that the girls would have been at max *twelve* when they got these gross-ass lessons. But they did, so I decided to work with it and give Tenten a reason not be as interested in her looks as her female peers clearly are. Tenten was never conditioned into caring about how big her boobs are (like Sakura) because her teacher told her she’d never amount to anything.

Those teachers suck, by the way. The ones that decide a kid will never be good at their subject, so they give up on them entirely.

Ino is so so happy to have a girl friend again!!! She’s not long off her friend-split with Sakura, so she’s craving sleepovers and makeovers like crazy.

Neji is being uber mean because Tenten threw a stinkbomb at him and also he has Hyuuga Main House Angst. Kou is a member of the Main House. He also has a specific role in the series. I wonder if any of you guys know him? He’s a cutie.

Tenten has a map and a countdown pointing her towards a specific place at a specific time, with nothing but the vague direction that she might find allies there. Allies that she has to find without alerting Kou to her true purpose. How will she know who her allies are? Will they even be helpful if she does find them?

Find out next time on Dragon Ball Z!

 **Quick poll for fun:** What was your favourite subject at school?

I’m positive I’ve already asked this somewhere but I don’t care. It’s honestly interesting to know.

 

Please leave a comment if you enjoyed the chapter (ﾉﾟ▽ﾟ)ﾉ


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